The Tribulations and Tranquility of Travel
by MetamorphmagusLupin
Summary: AU. There are many joys in fatherhood. There are equally as many horrors. On a trip to the seaside, Zoe Snape makes certain that Severus experiences both.
1. A Change of Plans

**_Happy Holidays, everyone! I've decided to start posting this latest glimpse in the Severus and Zoe saga, despite it only being about half finished. At the moment, two chapters are finished with one more, possibly two, to write. I've just realized that I write faster/better under pressure and those that have read and reviewed are always amazing motivators. I don't like to leave anyone hanging._**

**_Enjoy._**

**_MetamorphmagusLupin_**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**A Change of Plans**

It had been nearly seven years since Severus had reentered the Wizarding world. In that time, the Potions Master had worked tirelessly to establish his name as a reputable, freelance potioneer. With his notoriety in the media and his known skill among the Potions community of Masters, apprentices, and other academics, it hadn't been difficult to build a small, one-man enterprise for himself—despite the difficulty of handling a budding business and the challenges associated with raising a child on his own. Minerva had helped immensely as had Ollie, of course, but Severus felt a sense of pride that, with all the changes and turns his life had taken, he had still managed to be successful in both aspects of his life.

However, today was quickly becoming a day when the two very different aspects of his life converged and threatened to give him a headache of epic proportion before he'd even finished his morning cup of coffee.

"I want to go with you," Zoe pouted from where she sat at the kitchen table, her half-eaten porridge growing cold.

"You will be staying with Minerva. She has already promised to take you to some museums in Edinburgh while I am away," Severus stated.

"I don't want to go to any boring old museums. I want to go hunt potion stuff with you!"

Whining. Lovely.

Severus sighed in exasperation.

Throughout the years, he had quickly became known as a brewer of a wide array of different potions, including very rare and difficult concoctions. Owing to his need for equally as rare ingredients, Severus sometimes spent time away from home in order to travel the globe in search of hard-to-find and expensive herbs, plants and animals as well as to meet with suppliers. It wasn't a regular occurrence, by any means, but something he had to do every few months in order to keep his stocks supplied.

Minerva McGonagall, as Zoe's godmother, had always been more than willing to take Zoe for a few days and had even accommodated him two summers ago when he travelled to New Zealand for sixteen long days in search of a very rare species of grub worm. Normally, Zoe took his time away well, but with the last few trips, she had become adamant that she should be allowed to accompany him on his escapades.

Severus was wary of this. First, although he loved his daughter very much, he also rather relished the alone time his travels afforded him. There was also the fact that many of his ingredient-finding missions took him to locales that were not, necessarily, the most hospitable of places for a six-year-old little girl. Aside from the danger that he could perceive, Zoe would probably be bored and then complain when there was nothing fun for her to do. Severus shook his head.

"No, Zoe, you are not going. Finish your breakfast."

"I'm not hungry," the little girl pouted hotly, folding her arms across her chest.

"Then go upstairs and pack for Minerva's like I asked you to do yesterday."

"I don't want to, Papa. I want to go with you."

Severus leveled his daughter with a very stern look. His patience was waning quickly.

"I do not recall asking you what you wanted," he snapped, taking her arm and pulling her from her chair. "Do as you were told."

Zoe groaned, but ultimately obeyed. Of course, Severus would have to check that she packed all the essentials later, but he thought it healthy to give the little girl the responsibility of picking out her own clothes for a few days away from home. Merlin knew she could become downright bossy should he do it and somehow forget to include her favorite skirt of the week or the least itchy of her jumpers.

Nearly an hour later, he entered into Zoe's attic bedroom to find his daughter sitting lazily on the floor, leaning against her bed and fiddling with a toy. Scanning the small room incredulously, Severus noticed that she hadn't pulled anything out of her wardrobe or her chest of drawers and all of her shoes remained lined up neatly against the far wall. There was absolutely no evidence that she was making any headway in her packing.

Shooting a glare down at her, Zoe returned his look with her own of apprehension. She knew she was in trouble.

"Zoe Ophelia Elizabeth," he scolded evenly, striding to her and lifting her to her feet. He leaned down to address her. "I refuse to make a habit of repeating myself simply because you can't be bothered to obey me the first time."

Severus then gave his daughter's bottom a quick smack and lightly pushed her toward her wardrobe, ignoring her histrionic yowl of indignation.

"Pack. Now," he commanded.

"I don't know what to take," Zoe said grumpily, throwing the door to her wardrobe open.

"Then you should have asked for help. You are staying in northern Scotland in early March. Take something warm. Jumpers, trousers, thick robes and your Muggle coat, two of your winter nightgowns and wool socks," Severus responded. "And mind your attitude, young lady. I have no patience for it today."

Severus summoned a small suitcase for his daughter and opened it up on her bed as she brought him random articles of clothing to pack. He folded them neatly and organized it all inside the suitcase.

"Where is the blue pinafore dress Minerva bought you? You should take that to wear to the history museum."

"It's lost," Zoe stated automatically.

"Lost?"

"Yeah."

"_Yes_," Severus corrected as he leveled his daughter with a skeptical look. She'd entered into that fibbing stage (or had been in it for the last two years) and he wasn't buying it.

"You haven't even worn it yet. How could it be lost?"

"Dunno," Zoe said, shrugging.

"I believe you mean that you _do_ _not_ _know_…and I doubt that. Ollie would never allow clothing to go missing. Bring it here."

Zoe groaned and dragged her feet to her wardrobe. Severus could see the dreaded article of clothing clearly hanging amongst Zoe's other dresses. The girl took it from the hanger and brought it to her father with a sour look on her face.

"I don't like it."

Severus pursed his lips. _Of_ _course_ she didn't like it. His daughter had no problem wearing skirts and dresses—or ballet tutus, for that matter—as long as she could sport plimsols, but this pinafore dress would require dress shoes and tights; Zoe was fond of neither. After all, it was difficult to climb trees in Mary Janes and tights typically snagged and ripped when one wrestled about in the grass with other children.

"Too bad," Severus told her. "Minerva bought it for you and deserves to see you wear it at least once." He looked down into the suitcase and tried not to think of how much he had just sounded like his Grandmother Ophelia as he mentally ticked off what they had packed so far and what was needed still. "Knickers."

"Papa, I can pack them myself," Zoe said, bossy and embarrassed.

"Obviously not, or you would have already."

"Papa…"

He could see that his daughter was not comfortable with him packing her undergarments for her so he conceded to let her do it herself.

"Very well. Pack some; six or eight pairs should be more than sufficient. I'll get your shoes."

He strode to the opposite side of the room and crouched down to pick out his daughter's Mary Janes, an extra pair of trainers and her slippers. He took them back to the bed and arranged them on top of Zoe's clothes. Zoe was sitting on the bed beside her suitcase now and looking into it with a far off look in her eyes. Once Severus had closed and latched it, she looked up at him and he could see the determination there.

"Can I _please_ go with you, Papa? I promise I'll be good and do everything you say and I'll go to bed on time and eat my greens and…and everything. _Please_."

Severus quirked a single eyebrow. "Weighty promises indeed," he said sardonically. Zoe frowned and looked down at her hands. Severus sighed. "On my expeditions I often move around—"

"Not this time. You told Min that you were staying in a cottage on the beach."

Both eyebrows rose this time. "Eavesdropping on my Floo call, were you?"

Zoe held his gaze solidly. "I'm sorry," she said, though she didn't look it. Severus sat down on the bed beside her.

"You would tire easily," he reasoned. "And often what I do is not enjoyable. It is work and I can't watch you all the time. That is why I need you to stay with Minerva while I am away."

Zoe continued to frown. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his elbow and looking up at him with big, pleading, royal blue eyes. "_Please_, Papa. I promise I won't be a pain."

"No, Zoe. That is final. Minerva will be here in an hour or so to take you to Hogw—"

Suddenly a scratching sound cut off his firm resolve. Severus and Zoe both looked up to the lone window in the attic bedroom. There was an owl outside, fluttering its wings in order to stay airborne. Severus disentangled himself from his pouting daughter and rose to let the bird in. He immediately recognized it as one of the Hogwarts standard barn owls. Taking the missive from the owl's leg, he unrolled the parchment and began to read.

_Severus—_

_I will be unable to take Zoe during your trip to the Isle of Wight. An unfortunate bout of elven influenza has been spreading throughout Hogwarts and I cannot allow, in good conscience, for Zoe to be exposed to such an illness whilst in my care. I am sorry for the late notice and hope that other arrangements can be made._

_My sincerest apologies,_

_Minerva McGonagall  
><em>_Headmistress  
><em>_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_P.S. Do give that darling child a kiss from me. _

Severus brought the parchment down and sucked in a great breath of air through his nostrils. Elven influenza. Brilliant. Yes, there was no doubt in his mind that, were Zoe to step foot inside Hogwarts, she would be ill before suppertime and he would just have to cut his expedition short anyway.

What was he to do now? He couldn't leave her here by herself, obviously, and it was much too late to ask the Malfoys, though he was certain they would be more than happy to take Zoe for the week. Besides, she and Scorpius were likely to drive Draco and Astoria to madness by tomorrow at midday with their relentless squabbling and competitiveness.

Rubbing his forehead, he afforded himself a sidelong glance at the six-year-old on the bed. She was lying on her back and rubbing her eyes in an effort to keep from crying.

He would be kidding himself if he thought he wasn't warmed by the fact that his daughter wanted to spend so much time with him or, with all the work he had been doing lately, that he and Zoe couldn't benefit from some time together away from home.

Well, at least it was just the Isle of Wight and not a foreign region he knew little about. The girl could play on the beach while he searched for the moss he needed and with the right wards and charms, he could keep track of her magically, he supposed.

Severus sighed and used his wand to rearrange the letters of Minerva's letter into a short, understanding response before tying it to the leg of the owl and releasing it through the window into the late morning sky. He turned toward the bed to address Zoe.

"Where is that ridiculous floppy straw hat you whined incessantly for me to buy for you last summer?" he asked, feigned exasperation in his tone.

Zoe sat up and looked at him, confused.

"Up there," she said, pointing up and across the room. "Why?"

Severus looked up, strode to her wardrobe, and pulled the hat down, dusting a cobweb off it as he crossed back to the bed and opened the suitcase again.

"Because they are calling for an unseasonable amount of sunny weather on the Isle of Wight this entire week. You'll need it."

As comprehension dawned on his daughter, her pouty features melted away and formed a huge smile in their place.

"You mean I get to go?"

"Yes, it seems that Minerva is rather indisposed at the moment…"

The girl launched herself off the bed and flung her arms around Severus's legs with such glee that it caused him to sway.

"Oh, thank you, _thank_ _you_, Papa!"

"Hmm, yes," Severus said, reaching down and lifting his daughter up to his level. "Remember all those promises you just made—good behavior, obedience, bed time. I will hold you to those."

The girl nodded her head enthusiastically. "Okay, Papa."

Severus smirked and then pecked a kiss to her forehead before placing her on her feet again. "I believe we'll have to exchange some of the items in your suitcase."

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><p>Later that afternoon, Severus stepped out of the Floo at the Ventnor Magical Travel Depot with Zoe clinging to him. Once assuring her that the ride was indeed over, he used his wand to siphon off any excess soot from their clothing and hair before taking her hand and making his way to the concierge desk across the large room.<p>

The Travel Depot in Ventnor was rather enormous owing to its need to accommodate the needs of hundreds of travelers to the seaside resort throughout the busy summer season. Floo Network fireplaces lined two walls and opposite them were rooms designed for those wishing to travel by Portkey. A large, roped off area directly across from the concierge had a sign that read: _Ventnor_ _Apparition_ _Point_.

As he strode purposefully across the maroon velvet carpeting, Severus was grateful that the moss he had come for needed to be cultivated before the last frost of the winter, which was a plus in that it meant they would not be wending their way through throngs of over-exuberant tourists.

Approaching the tall counter, a young man with curly, auburn hair who was dressed in a double-breasted jacket, looked up at the father and daughter.

"Welcome to Ventnor, sir. How may I be of assistance?"

Severus disengaged his hand from Zoe's and maneuvered her to stand between him and the counter so as not to lose sight of her as he pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket.

"Good afternoon," Severus greeted politely. "My name is Severus Snape. I am to meet a Madam…" He glanced briefly at the parchment. "…Robertson about her cottage."

"Adrienne Robertson," the boy said knowingly. "You're the Potions Master?"

"I am."

"Madam Robertson should be here any minute, Mr. Snape. She sent an owl ahead to say she was running a bit late. You may take a seat and wait if you like."

Severus nodded his head and felt a sudden downward tug on his Muggle blazer. He looked down to see Zoe staring up at him.

"Papa, I need to use the toilet," she said, leaning against him.

"Why didn't you go before we left?"

"I didn't hafta go then."

Severus rolled his eyes. She didn't have to go less than ten minutes before?

"Oh, very well." He glanced to the concierge. "Could you please point me in the direction of the lady's toilet?"

The boy pointed to his left. Severus took his daughter's hand once more and led her to the door labeled "Witches".

"You'll have to go in by yourself," he told the little girl.

"I _know_, Papa," Zoe stated bossily, pushing the door inward.

"I shall wait right here," he assured her despite her obvious want for independency. "And wash your—" he began hastily as the door closed behind her, "—hands."

Severus had only just leaned against the wall to wait for his daughter when the door opening out to the city of Ventnor caught his eye and emitted a woman and a small boy. The woman walked resolutely toward the concierge desk with the boy running ahead of her. Severus watched as the little hellion—who couldn't have been much older than Zoe was—ran full force toward the counter, slowing himself only slightly as he put out both hands to cushion his collision with the solid wood.

"Hullo, Nico!" the exuberant, towheaded child greeted the concierge loudly.

"Matthew! Be careful, son," the woman admonished the boy. "Nico, have they arrived yet?"

The concierge nodded and pointed toward Severus who eyed the door to the bathroom beside him then took a few steps forward, holding out his hand as the woman met him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Snape," she said, clutching his hand firmly and smiling warmly. She had greying, dirty-blonde hair and the air of someone who greeted strangers often. "I'm Adrienne Robertson, the proprietor for Cliffside Cottage. I expect your trip from Lancashire went well?"

"Yes, as expected, mostly."

"Good, good. Well, if you'll come with me, it's just a bit of a walk— oh, who's this?"

Severus hadn't heard Zoe exit the bathroom and he looked down to see her looking warily at Madam Robertson and her son as she approached his side. When the impudent boy blew a raspberry at her, she wrinkled her nose at him and snaked her arm around Severus's thigh, clinging to him once again. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Manners, Zoe. We are their guests."

She nodded and looked up at Madam Robertson.

"Good afternoon, Madam," she said softly before looking up at Severus for acknowledgement that she had acted accordingly. He gave her a subtle nod and then turned to Madam Robertson.

"Madam, I do hope you don't mind that I brought along my daughter. There was a bit of a…change in situation."

"No, not at all! Of course not!" The woman smiled kindly and waved her hand nonchalantly as she leaned down to address his little girl. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Zoe Ophelia Elizabeth Snape."

Severus rolled his eyes. He'd been trying to get his daughter to tell her first name only when asked that question, but she insisted on saying the whole, damn thing at lightning speed as if it was a test to see how fast she could say the (admittedly) long name. Well, she would get few points for enunciation. Her middle names were practically indecipherable.

"Hello, Zoe. This is Matthew," the woman introduced her son who was now crawling around on the floor with a toy lorry. "And I'm Madam Robertson, but you may call me Adrienne, if your daddy doesn't mind."

"I don't call him Daddy," Zoe informed precociously, holding Severus's hand now and swinging it back and forth, as she became more comfortable with the strangers. "He's Papa. And Papa doesn't like me to call grownups by their given names. He says it's imp'lite and dis— er, disre'pectful. But you already said you don't mind so—"

Severus cleared his throat and effectively hushed his daughter's babbling. He looked down on Zoe impassively.

"You may call Madam Robertson Adrienne, if you wish."

Zoe nodded.

Severus once again turned to the woman. "The cottage? You were saying something about a walk?"

Madam Robertson nodded and smiled. "Yes, of course. Come with me. It's just outside the village. I hope you don't mind. The weather is quite nice today."

"Not at all," Severus stated and, grasping his daughter's hand firmly, the four left the Travel Depot.

The walk to the small cottage was relatively pleasant. Zoe held Severus's hand nearly the entire way despite Matthew's attempts to have her run along ahead of their respective parents with him; it was surely an effort to make mischief. The girl had politely refused numerous times before Madam Robertson had firmly told her son to settle down and stop pestering Zoe.

The woman—a Squib and the widow of a former St. Mungo's Healer—was highly amiable and talked at length about the surrounding area. Ventnor was primarily a Muggle community, she explained, but witches and wizards could find all manner of supplies and magical things should they know where to look and blending in was key for it was a small enough community that people talked and tourists often caught more strange occurrences than one might think.

"Will you be brewing your potions during your stay?" Madam Robertson asked.

Severus glanced at her briefly as they walked. "Would that be possible?"

"Oh, yes. You aren't the first Potions Master to hire my cottage for the collection of moss, Mr. Snape. My late husband built a shed just down the path from the house. You'll have to obtain your own ingredient supplies, but it is fully equipped as a potions laboratory. You may also have to reinforce the temperature-control charms before you begin any brews, but it should work sufficiently for your needs."

Severus was surprised. This would indeed help immensely for he could brew the potions he intended, send them off to his respective clients, and not need to worry about transporting the moss home.

"I will most definitely look into it. Thank you, Madam," Severus said, inclining his head.

They walked a bit farther and soon entered into a narrow, dirt lane. The sea was clearly visible through the trees to their right, giving off a clean, salty smell with the breeze.

Zoe moved closer to Severus as the path took them very near a steep drop and when she nearly tripped him trying to keep from the height, he picked her up and carried her until, finally, they reached the cottage.

"Here we are," Madam Robertson said.

The cottage was small and painted a pale blue with an ostentatiously red front door. It stood situated on a hill surrounded by plants, shrubbery and tall grasses that, though trimmed quite neatly, nearly choked the tiny structure. Just beyond it, Severus could see the sea.

As the group walked up the gravel path, Zoe started to wriggle in Severus's grasp. It appeared she was rather excited to get inside the house. He set her down, and she immediately rushed after Matthew who had already entered ahead of everyone else. Severus snatched a handful of Zoe's jacket and eyed her sternly.

"Papa, can I explore?" she asked tentatively.

"It's _may_ _I_ and, yes, you may. Inside the house only."

The girl grinned and ran off as Severus continued toward the front door at a normal pace with Madam Robertson.

"She seems like a wonderful child. You must be very proud of her," the woman commented.

Severus inclined his head slightly. "She can certainly be a handful when she wants to be, I assure you."

"Oh, I understand completely, though I never had a little girl. I've raised four boys already. Matthew is my youngest—the fifth—and our little surprise…"

The woman trailed off wistfully and Severus suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable but Madam Robertson soon waved her hands, coming out of her reminiscence.

"Well, let me show you the place."

Severus nodded and the two finally entered the cottage.

It was cozy. The front door opened into a sitting room and dining area combination. The walls were yellow and the furniture was well used, but still rather nice. Straight ahead was a wide archway that led to the kitchen and to the left a screen door that opened out onto a marvelous observation platform where one could sit and stare into the sea. Straight across from the deck, another door led into the bedroom.

"There's a single trundle under the queen," Madam Robertson indicated as they entered into the room to find Zoe and Matthew jumping jubilantly on the bed and giggling. Seeing the adults, Matthew immediately collapsed onto the mattress and tried to look innocent, but Zoe didn't spot them at first. Severus folded his arms across his chest.

"Zoe Snape. I don't believe that is an appropriate activity for a bed, young lady."

Zoe stopped jumping and whirled around, but continued to stand in the middle of the mattress. "You didn't say that I couldn't," she said, shrugging.

Matthew's eyes went wide and Madam Robertson did her best to contain her mirth. Severus's eyes narrowed at his daughter.

"You are not permitted to do it at home which means you most certainly are not allowed to do such things here. Get down before you fall down."

Severus strode to the bed and lifted his daughter from it. Once he placed her on the floor, he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Behave yourself, or I'll find a suitable corner for you to stand in," he reprimanded.

"Yes, Papa," she said lowly.

When she spotted Matthew on the bed watching their exchange, she blushed and put her head down; embarrassed that he had seen her get into trouble. As Zoe hid her face in his blazer, Severus straightened his posture and sent a glare at the boy that he imagined would keep him from teasing his girl about it. Severus walked back to Madam Robertson at the door who was smiling knowingly.

"There's mischief in her eyes," she said. "I see what you mean about being a handful. In a few years, she'll be turning your hair grey—if she hasn't started already."

Severus had merely grunted.

A few minutes later, he was at the front door saying goodbye to the proprietress and her son.

"I left a casserole for you in the fridge for dinner. You just need to heat it. I'll also bring by more food tomorrow sometime. Please let me know if you need anything else. We're in the brick house just a bit farther down the lane."

"Thank you," Severus said, as he closed the door. He walked back to the bedroom where his daughter remained.

"Can we go to the beach, Papa?" she asked when she saw him.

"_May_ _we_. And no, you'll be on the beach plenty tomorrow," Severus said as he pulled their suitcases from his shirt pocket and enlarged them. He placed them on the bed and opened them. "Come put your clothes in the drawers."

Zoe's shoulders slumped. "But I just _packed_ them…" she whined.

"And now you're going to _unpack_ them," he told her resolutely.

Zoe groaned, but obeyed.

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><p><strong><em>Thanks for reading! Please review.<em>**


	2. Seashells and Blank Walls

**_Hello, everyone! The holiday season is really ramping up now and I wanted to get this chapter finished before the ensuing craziness truly began-basically before I fly to see my family in the Midwest in a few days. I have started writing the third chapter and, considering its current length, I am starting to think that this will definitely be a four chapter glimpse._**

**_I hope you enjoy this chapter and, please review. All those who consistently review, you make me so happy. Thank you so much!_**

**_MetamorphmagusLupin_**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Seashells and Blank Walls<strong>

Zoe Snape was in trouble.

And as she sat wrapped in a blanket on a hard chair staring at a very boring stretch of canary yellow wall and pondering over the last hour or so, she might even have to say that she was in more trouble than she'd ever been in all of her six years.

_The Snapes' first full day in the little, cliff-side cottage on the outskirts of the town of Ventnor on the Isle of Wight had started out wonderfully. Zoe's father hadn't awoken Zoe too early and, after dressing in the clothes he had laid out for her at the foot of her trundle bed, Zoe had walked into the modest kitchen to see that he had made her scrambled eggs instead of porridge for breakfast. She'd tucked in happily and listened as he talked to her._

"_I shall spend most of the day trying to locate moss along the cliffs," her Papa had said before taking a sip of his coffee. "You may look for seashells or otherwise occupy your time on the beach. I may not always be in your field of vision, but I will hear you if you call for me."_

"_What if I have to go to the bathroom?"_

"_Go before we leave the house. Certainly you can hold it until lunchtime?"_

_Zoe had nodded her head in understanding. "Can I go swimming?"_

_Her Papa had shaken his head. "No. The sea is much too cold for swimming." Then he had leveled her with a very serious look and told her very sternly, "You are not to go anywhere near the water, Zoe. Do you understand me?"_

_Zoe had nodded._

"_Yes, Papa."_

_And so, after breakfast, her father had deposited her on the small expanse of private beach in a pair of denims, a warm jumper and her floppy straw hat to shade her face. Then he had conjured a number of different tools she could use to make a sand castle including a little bucket that could also be used to collect seashells, should she feel so inclined, before pointing out to her where he would be should she be in need of him._

_The day was unseasonably mild and the sun made appearances from time to time as the great, grey-white clouds marched steadily across a dull, blue-grey sky. A light breeze blew Zoe's long, brown locks against her nose, making it itch, and she suddenly wished she had asked her Papa to plait her hair for her or at least to tie it back so it wouldn't fall into her face so much._

_Sighing as she dug the moat for her castle, she looked up toward the cliffs where she knew her father was searching. She spotted him moving around on some rocks in the distance, the blue jeans he wore being the main contrast against the jagged, black rocks of the cliff face._

_Normally, her Papa wore all black. From head to toe, his frock coat and wizard's robes showed only a sliver of the white linen shirt he wore beneath them. Today, however, he had donned denim trousers and a black turtleneck instead because he said that Ventnor was full of Muggles and Muggles didn't wear robes and would think it very strange to see Zoe and her Papa in them. Zoe didn't mind. She liked her and her father's Muggle clothes just as much as she liked their robes._

_As the morning progressed, Zoe continued to dig and dig. The clouds had spread out a bit and the sun was beating down steadily on her now. The breeze had died away almost to nothing._

_Growing bored with the moat that kept caving in due to a lack of moist, malleable sand, Zoe kicked off her trainers and socks, picked up her bucket and started to look around for seashells. There were quite a lot of them on the beach but very few that held up to her exacting standards. She only wanted the nice-looking ones; only the seashells that weren't cracked or chipped and were a pretty color._

_She reached down and picked up a peculiarly colored shell—it was hard for her to describe, some sort of orange. Wiping off excess sand and inspecting it closely, Zoe smiled, deciding that she liked it. She placed it in her bucket, spotted another odd-colored shell sticking up out of the sand, and walked down the beach toward it._

"_That's far enough," she suddenly heard her Papa's deep, resonating voice say._

_Zoe halted immediately and looked up, perplexed, to see him standing on a rock staring at her. He must have been using a spell for he was much too far away for his voice to have sounded so close. It had been as if he was standing right next to her._

_Zoe looked wistfully down at the shell that was still several feet away from her, and then looked up at her Papa with pleading eyes._

"_But I just want to get that shell there," she said, pointing, unsure if her father could even hear her. She saw him shake his head; apparently, he could._

"_No. Do not cross into the wet sand. There are more than enough seashells up the beach."_

_Frowning—pouting, really—because she couldn't have her way, Zoe retreated up the beach to look some more._

"_Good girl," she heard her Papa say softly._

_The sun had really started to heat up now and, having put many shells and rocks and other sea souvenirs into her bucket, Zoe sat down in the sand and swiped at her forehead. Her jumper was starting to stick to her and, as she pushed the sleeves up her arms, Zoe suddenly wished that she had worn a t-shirt beneath it. A light breeze blew past her, but it wasn't enough to assuage her uncomfortable temperature. She looked longingly toward the sea. If only she could put her feet into the water, she bet she would cool down immensely._

Papa said no,_ she told herself._

But it's only your feet,_ she countered in her mind._

_Zoe sighed heavily and looked back behind her. Up on the hilltop she could make out their little cottage. She was starting to get hungry. Perhaps her father would come back soon so they_ _could eat._

_As that thought crossed her mind, Zoe glanced over to the cliffs again. Her Papa was gone. More than likely, he had travelled up the coast a bit and therefore the rocks were blocking her view of him. This was the first time, however, that she had looked up and not been able to see him. Zoe suddenly felt a little scared._

He said that sometimes you wouldn't be able to see him. Don't be such a big baby,_ she internally scolded herself._

_Steadying her breath and blinking back tears, another thought popped into her mind. _You could just put your toes into the water. He won't see; he'll never know.

_Zoe bit her lip and looked toward the waves cascading into the beach. Just past where the wet sand began, the water was so calm and there was so little of it compared to the great big sea beyond it. It couldn't hurt to just… see how it feels, just for a second. Then she'd come right back and her father would be none the wiser._

_Glancing back to the rock face where her father was still conspicuously absent, Zoe walked tentatively toward the water. As she reached the wet sand, she noticed an immediate difference in the temperature under her bare feet. She continued forward until she saw the line where the waves started to recede and stopped, waiting for the water. She saw the wave coming and then the water rushed up and, where she had hoped it would merely nip at her toes, it progressed instead up to her ankles._

Cripes! That's cold!_ she thought, but giggled as the feeling of the water rushed over her skin._

_Looking down, she frowned. The very bottoms of the legs of her trousers were wet. Her father would never believe that she had stayed away from the water now._

_Shoulders hunched and resigning herself to her imminent doom, she started back up toward the dry sand and hoped that the heat of the sun would dry her trousers before her Papa came to collect her for lunch. However, as she started back up the beach, an object caught her eye. _

_A wave had just receded and, as the water fell away, back into the sea, a sea star was clearly visible clinging to the wet sand upon which it had washed. It was only a little ways down the beach from where Zoe stood and, if she hurried, she knew she could collect it. It would make any trouble she got into for disobeying her Papa somewhat worth it._

_Chancing one last glance toward the cliffs, Zoe ran down the beach and scooped the sea star up. Looking down at her prize with glee, she didn't notice how close she had gotten to the actual surf and in an instant, a huge wave came in and the force of it knocked her off her feet. _

_Everything seemed to altogether slow down and speed up at the same time. Zoe struggled in the water trying to right herself, but it was little use for she didn't know how to swim, not really—she had only ever paddled around in shallow water before—and the strength of the ocean was too much for her as it pulled her farther and farther from the beach. It churned her about in such a manner that she could hardly tell which way was up, but every time she came to the surface, she sucked in a great breath of air and called out, "Papa! Papa!"_

_Despite her cries for help, Zoe thought there was no way her father would be able to hear her over the roar of the waves. Struggling to keep her head up and ingesting what felt like buckets full of salty water, Zoe suddenly felt herself pulled up into the air by an invisible force. She was flying toward the beach. It had to be a dream or maybe she had passed out. She couldn't fly._

_As quickly as everything had gone wrong, however, everything suddenly felt just as right as she came back down to the ground and found herself enveloped in her father's arms. She was shivering and her whole body seemed to ache from all of her efforts in the sea, but her Papa had saved her._

"_Thank Merlin," she vaguely heard him say through her crying._

_He was on his knees in the sand and he looked Zoe over quickly before conjuring a blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders and pressing her tightly against his warm chest. He started to rub his hands up and down her back and arms vigorously._

"_You're…squee-squeezing too t-t-tight, Pa-Papa," Zoe chattered._

"_Hush," he said softly but didn't relinquish his tight grasp of her. _

_Eventually, Zoe calmed, her breathing felt less labored and her teeth had stopped chattering. At about the same time that she realized it, apparently her father had too. He jerked her away from him so quickly Zoe was startled. He held her at arm's length and Zoe could see that his eyebrows had knitted into a very big frown and his eyes, though still exhibiting relief, had started to show a glimmer of anger._

"_What the _hell_ were you thinking?" he asked harshly, shaking her slightly._

_Zoe opened her mouth to explain but he didn't give her the chance. He stood then and took hold of her wrist, pulling her toward the steep trail up to the cottage. They didn't speak and, once inside, her father took her into the bedroom. He seized the wet blanket from around her shoulders and magicked it away before swirling his wand over her and drying her from head to toe. He put a hand between her shoulder blades then and led her to the chest of drawers where he pulled out fresh clothing._

_Normally, Zoe would have protested being stripped out of her cold, dirty, and sandy clothes and changed like a baby, but the fearsome look on her father's face made her bite her tongue. Once she was in clean, warm clothing, her father took her wrist once more and pulled her into the sitting room, grabbing one of the wooden chairs from the dining table as he walked._

_Coming to an expanse of wall with no décor, he placed the chair facing it and then leaned down to Zoe's level._

"_You'll sit here and think about the consequences of your disobedience," he said and then lifted her and sat her on the chair. A moment later, he placed a dry blanket around her shoulders again and walked away._

_Zoe heard the door out onto the wooden observation deck creak open and then blow closed. She leaned back against the chair and let out a breath of air. _

_Yes, she was _definitely_ in trouble._

That had been ages ago—to Zoe anyway—and her father was still outside. She hadn't cried a lot, as she sat in time out, not really. She tried to think about everything that had happened—about her disobedience, as her Papa had told her to—but it was all jumbling together and all she could really think about coherently was how angry he was with her.

Thinking about these things was enough to bring tears to her eyes again. It was only once she brought her hand up to swipe at her nose that she realized she was still clutching the sea star. She looked down at it, amazed. How had she managed to keep hold of it? Zoe didn't know.

Just then, the screen door of the deck opened and admitted her father. Zoe didn't dare turn around and look at him, though she desperately wanted to. She could hear her Papa sigh and then slowly walk to the sofa and collapse onto it. Then he stared at her; Zoe could feel it on her back. After what felt like an eternity, she mustered up enough courage and said softly:

"Papa, I don't want to look at the wall anymore."

There was silence at first, then:

"Come here."

Zoe paused. She had never heard that kind of a tone from her Papa before. It was low and resigned. It was scary.

Slowly, she slid off her punishment chair and made her way toward the sofa, focusing her eyes on her bare feet.

* * *

><p>When Severus had left Zoe on the beach earlier that morning, he hadn't been foolish enough to believe that she would simply obey. His daughter had spunk and an adventurous spirit and he knew that, though she would do her best to do as he said, inevitably, her willful curiosity would win out and she would find herself in trouble. And she <em>was<em> only six years old.

Therefore Severus had done what any wizard with a young child would do: he had placed charms—over a dozen of them—that would allow him to monitor the girl while he went about his work searching for the rare moss that clung to the black rocks of the cliffs. He used all manner of spells to track her along the beach and let him know if she moved too close to the water. He had even devised that little spell that allowed him to speak with her over a distance as if he were standing right beside her—a variation on the Sonorous charm and an auditory enhancement charm.

He had thought his spellwork was fail-proof, that he would be able to stop any catastrophe before it occurred… He had been foolish, complacent even.

He had been wrong and Zoe had nearly— He shook his head; he didn't even want to imagine it.

He had spent the morning climbing over every inch of the nearest cliff face to their cottage using a combination of a very mild _Point_ _Me_ spell and simple searching, but with little luck. He would have loved to have used more advanced magic to seek out the moss that worked so well in a number of memory enhancing potions, but raw magic from a wand tended to decrease the potency of the moss and so Severus had to be careful.

It was only after reminding Zoe that she was to stay to the dry sand of the beach, that Severus had realized that there were no more rocks within Zoe's line of vision to be searched. Therefore, seeing his daughter dutifully obeying, he had moved down into dark crevices and crawl spaces deeper within the rock face.

He had just located the first traces of moss when he simultaneously felt the magical pull of the perimeter he had placed around Zoe being breached and heard a heart-wrenching scream.

"Papa!"

His blood ran cold. Zoe's distressful pleas sounded as if they were right next to him. He quickly climbed back up onto a rock to look out across the beach and his heart nearly stopped when he didn't see her there. He scanned the area wildly and, seeing no signs of his daughter, Severus immediately Apparated to the area that he had last seen her. It took less than a moment for him to spot her straw hat floating in the waves. Severus panicked.

"Papa!"

He looked out into the roiling waves and, instantly, his wand was in his hand.

"_Accio_!" he had yelled over the roar of the sea, focusing all of his magical energy to seek out Zoe and Zoe alone. Relief flooded through him when her small form rose from the water and into the air. He had nonverbally switched from Summoning to Levitation then and a moment later, Zoe was safe in his arms.

Safe, but frightened and half-frozen. He only vaguely recalled the words "Thank Merlin" issuing from his mouth at the simple consolation that she was alive before he noted her shivering form and blue lips. He dropped to his knees and conjured a blanket. Severus had then brought Zoe's whole body to his chest in an effort to hold off the effects of hypothermia while rubbing her back, shoulders and arms to work the blood through them and create warmth through friction. She had complained about his tight hold on her, but he had quieted her with a single, "Hush."

It was when Zoe had finally started to warm and calm that he had looked over her shoulder and seen the small set of footprints in the sand where wet and dry met. Realizing it hadn't merely been an accident, he hadn't been able to contain his growing anger at her obvious disobedience.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?" he had asked harshly before taking her wrist and practically dragging her back to the cottage.

As consumed as he was with anger and worry, the minutes after seemed a haze to Severus as he had dried her, changed her clothing, and then deposited her on a chair to think on her behavior. He was just about to walk away when the afghan on the arm of the sofa had caught his attention. He snatched it up and turned to wrap it around his daughter's shoulders before striding out onto the observation deck to calm his bubbling emotions.

He didn't know how long he stood out there staring blankly into the waves as the breeze—which had suddenly picked up again—blew the black tresses of his hair into his face. Any more events like the one he had just experienced and there was no doubt that those tresses would soon be as grey as Madam Robertson had indicated the day before.

The truth was, Severus didn't know exactly how to deal with his daughter and her foolish actions. He had told her specifically not to go anywhere near the water and she had taken his command and completely disregarded it.

Sighing, Severus made his way back into the cottage, slowly walked to the sofa and collapsed onto it. Zoe was still sitting quietly where he had left her. He heard a few sniffles, but nothing that indicated that she had been crying profusely in his absence. Good, Severus didn't need another reason to disparage himself.

"Papa, I don't want to look at the wall anymore."

At his daughter's words, Severus rubbed a long-fingered hand down his face. He guessed now was as good a time as any to handle the situation.

"Come here," he said as calmly as he could, but even he didn't recognize his own voice.

Zoe slid off her chair and came toward him with her head bowed and pulling the afghan close around her as some sort of security.

"Sit down." Severus indicated the cushioned Adirondack opposite him. Zoe obeyed. "Are you warm enough?" he asked.

Not looking at him, Zoe nodded. "Yes. But—" she trailed off and then tried to clear her throat.

"What is it?"

"My throat hurts. It's all…itchy," she said in a small voice.

Between her cries for help and the amount of salt water she undoubtedly swallowed, he imagined it did hurt. Severus stood.

"Stay there. I'll be back in a moment."

He walked into the kitchen where his potions travel bag sat open on the table. Rifling through it a moment, Severus found the bottle he was looking for as well as a glass Pasteur pipette and went back into the sitting room. He crouched down next to Zoe's chair and unstoppered the bottle. He took the pipette, pulled out a child's dose of potion, and held it out for Zoe.

"Open your mouth."

Zoe did so and Severus squeezed the bulb of the pipette in. He watched his daughter grimace at the taste but then look at him with amazement when she realized that the effects of the potion were immediate.

"Better?"

"Better."

Severus nodded, Banished the potion and pipette back to his travel bag, and went to the sofa and sat once more. Zoe watched him and he returned her gaze.

"Would you care to explain to me how you found yourself so close to the waves despite my specific instructions to stay on the dry sand?"

Zoe fidgeted and looked down. Severus couldn't help the annoyance that overtook him then. He was just about to snap at her to look at him when he realized she hadn't merely looked away, she was staring down at her hand and an object in it. Severus's brow wrinkled.

"Bring it here, Zoe," he said.

The little girl stood, leaving her blanket behind, and made her way to him cautiously. Once she was standing before him, Severus moved to the edge of the sofa and held out his hand for her to deposit the object into it. Zoe hesitated for a moment and then placed it in his hand.

Whatever Severus had been imagining, it wasn't what the object actually turned out to be.

"_Asterias_ _rubens_," he stated.

"What?" Zoe asked.

Severus looked back at his daughter. "A sea star, a small one. They are common to the Atlantic Ocean and have a number of magical qualities, though they are most often used in potions to counteract swimmer's ear."

Zoe's eyes went wide. "Don't use it in a potion, Papa! Please!" the girl implored almost hysterically.

Severus tried to soften his voice—sound a little less academic.

"This one has been dead for quite some time, Zoe. It would be of little use to me." He handed the echinoderm back to his daughter. "Besides, you found it and therefore it is yours—it only took a foolish, life-threatening disregard of my instructions to obtain it. That is, if I'm surmising correctly and this is, in fact, what took you so far down the beach?"

Zoe nodded apprehensively and Severus sighed heavily. He moved his daughter to stand between his knees and placed his hands just above her elbows, locking her in place there.

"What did you promise me yesterday when it was decided that you would accompany me here?"

"That I would be good."

Severus nodded. "Does that not explicitly entail that you would obey me when I tell you to do something?"

Zoe nodded.

"Then why on earth would you feel the need to go after such a trivial thing after I told you to stay in the dry sand?"

As his voice rose slightly, Severus saw his daughter's eyes harden. "I _wanted_ it. _You_ didn't tell me the waves would do that."

Severus's eyebrows rose of their own accord. _Brazen_, _headstrong_ _child_.

"Perhaps you need some more time on your chair to think about this," he threatened lowly.

Zoe's manner changed immediately and tears started to fall down her cheeks. "Please no, Papa," she pleaded, fidgeting in his grasp.

Severus closed his eyes. Gods, this was difficult. How was he supposed to convey to his daughter her wrongdoing while still comfort her after such a traumatic event? He couldn't just say 'see to it this never happens again' and then send her on her merry way. There had to be consequences for her actions that would stick.

Corporal punishment came to mind but Severus knew he would never be able to bring himself to administer it. After all, he'd experienced his own trauma that day and striking his child after nearly losing her—no matter how disobedient she had been—just might put him over the edge. In fact, if he was honest with himself, he was starting to feel disinclined to disciplining her at all for her disobedience and more inclined to punish her for breaking her promise to him.

"I think I'll write to the Malfoys and see if I can't arrange for them to take you for the rest of the week," he said resignedly.

The tears really started to flow then and it took all of Severus's available self-control not to pull the six-year-old into his arms and coddle her.

"No, Papa," she sobbed. "I want to stay here with you! Don't send me away! Please!"

"You broke your promise to me, young lady. You said you would behave and you haven't. I have work to do. How am I to get anything done if I can't trust you to do as you're told?"

"I'm sorry, Papa… I'll be good from now on! _Please_ let me stay! I'll do _anything_!"

Zoe suddenly lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. As she cried onto his shirt, Severus knew there was no keeping his resolve now; she had weakened it with one simple gesture. When had he gone soft? Such melodramatic sobbing and begging would never have gotten one of his students out of their just punishments and yet, here Severus was, losing grip of his firm resolution all because of the tearful supplications of a six-year-old.

Exhaling, he wrapped his own arms around his distraught little girl and did his best to soothe her, rocking her and smoothing her hair with his hand.

"Calm down."

"P-please don't send me away," Zoe said again softly. "I won't be naughty again. I promise."

Severus said nothing to this (promises, promises, after all), merely sat back on the sofa and brought his daughter up to sit on his lap. A few minutes later, no doubt owing to her exertions in the sea, Zoe was asleep.

Severus carefully took out his wand and levitated to him the afghan from the chair Zoe had occupied earlier and covered her up. He rubbed her back and laid his head against hers. He kissed her fringe and pulled a piece of ocean debris from her hair that had managed to escape his cleaning spell.

"I was panicked, child," he suddenly heard himself say aloud, softly. "I was panicked that I may have lost you forever."

As he said it, he began to realize that he very well may have been more traumatized over Zoe's little misadventure than she had been and that, at the moment, the last possible thing he wanted to do was send her away. It had nothing to do with her pleas; he just couldn't bring himself to carry out that threat. If he was completely honest with himself, he wanted her in his sight at all times for several days.

As his daughter dozed, Severus laid his head against the back of the sofa and closed his own eyes. The girl would still need a punishment, but he could figure that out later.

It was rather disorienting when he awoke to the sound of the back door closing and someone moving around in the kitchen. Just as he had managed to maneuver his wand out from between the sofa cushions where it had fallen out of his hand—without waking the child asleep on his chest—the footsteps moved toward the sitting room. He pointed his wand at the intruder, then immediately lowered it upon seeing the boy staring back at him, wide-eyed and horrified.

"Were you goin' ta—" Matthew started to ask loudly, but cut off when Severus shot him a severe glare and put a finger to his lips. The child needed to learn the concept of an "indoor voice".

"Were you goin' ta curse me?" he tried again at a whisper.

Severus rolled his eyes. "No. I thought you were—" There was really no point in trying to explain to a five-year-old. "Where is your mother?"

"She's comin'," the boy said as he came around the Adirondack and took a seat.

Lucky for Severus, he didn't have to live with only the boy's presence for long as Madam Robertson entered soon after. She stepped into the sitting room and looked at Severus, surprised.

"Oh, Mr. Snape. I didn't expect you to be here; I thought you would have been on the cliffs following lunch."

"I most likely would have been. However, there was a bit of an…incident…of which has rather fatigued both Zoe and myself."

"Is everything alright?" Madam Robertson asked concernedly, looking down at Zoe.

"Yes," Severus reassured, shifting Zoe's head onto his shoulder as he stood awkwardly with her in his arms. "As I said, the ordeal was merely tiring."

He moved toward the bedroom door, and then looked back over his shoulder at the proprietor.

"Give me a moment."

He walked into the bedroom and slowly lowered her down onto the large bed. As he placed the afghan over her, she stirred.

"Papa…"

"Go back to sleep," he whispered, tucking her in.

The girl rolled over and was instantly asleep. Severus walked back into the sitting room to find it vacant, but found his host and her young son occupying the kitchen.

"I brought you more food, as promised," Madam Robertson said when she saw him enter. She bustled about in the cabinets putting parcels away. "Just some eggs and milk and such."

"Thank you," Severus said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

"I also brought by the key for the potions shed. I know it'll be a bit redundant once you put some magical wards on it, but nonetheless, here it is."

Madam Robertson took the key from her pocket and placed it next to the sink.

"Well, we'll leave you be," she said as she bustled Matthew out the back door. "Please don't hesitate to contact me if you need anything."

Severus gave a short nod. As Adrienne and Matthew Robertson exited, he gave a deep sigh and headed back into the sitting room.

Over two hours later, he spied from the corner of his eye a head of tousled brown hair peeking around the doorframe of the bedroom, apparently reluctant to make a full appearance.

"Would you like something to eat?" he asked, not looking up from the book he was reading.

There was a pause and then Severus heard a very quiet, "Yeah," from the doorway where his daughter had suddenly vanished from view.

"Yes?"

"Yes, please, Papa," Zoe said a bit louder.

Severus closed his book and stood. On his way to the kitchen, he paused to look in through the bedroom door. Zoe stood there, halfway concealed by the wall, watching him. She looked apprehensive about coming out so Severus held out his hand to her. She hesitated then slowly made her way to him, took his hand and, together, they made their way into the kitchen.

"Just something light," Severus said as he pulled items from the refrigerator. "Dinner is not far off."

Zoe nodded her head and came to stand next to him at the counter. She watched as he made them a cucumber sandwich to share. Once everything was put together and the sandwich cut in two, Severus placed it on a plate and walked out of the kitchen toward the deck. He opened the door and allowed Zoe to precede him outside.

There were more Adirondack chairs out there and, as soon as Zoe had settled into one, Severus handed her over half of the sandwich and took his own seat.

They sat quietly eating their late lunch and listening to the waves crash along the shore and the cliffs. The air was mild and the light breeze was pleasant against Severus's face. He rather thought this cottage would be nice for a holiday.

Zoe finished her sandwich and sat quietly. Severus chose to stand then. He walked to the railing and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the worn, warped wood. He could feel his daughter staring at him as he looked out upon the serene water. Eventually, she came forward as well, getting just close enough that he could feel her presence beside him. He felt a tentative hand touch his arm.

"Do I have to go away now, Papa?" she asked once he had given her his attention. Her lip quivered and there were tears in her eyes.

Severus was certain that, had he not already made up his mind to let her stay, that face alone would have swayed him to change it. _She has you wrapped around her finger, Snape. Pathetic,_ he silently admonished. Severus raised a single eyebrow.

"Do you not think that you deserve to after your behavior today?"

Zoe said nothing, but her bottom lip shook even more. She bit it as a single tear leaked down her cheek. Severus looked back at the ocean for a moment, trying to organize his thoughts. _She needs to understand_, he told himself.

Severus looked back at the girl and stood upright. He turned and guided his daughter back to one of the chairs. After sitting, he once again positioned her to stand between his knees and held her in place there. He looked on her sternly.

"Do you understand why I told you not to go near the water?" he asked.

"I didn't know it was so scary," Zoe said, her voice low.

"More importantly, it is dangerous. You were told to stay in the dry sand for your own safety. Not only can the waves knock you off your feet, as you experienced, but you can't even swim. What do you think would have happened had I not been able to get to you?"

Severus knew his tone was sharp, but the girl needed to know what sort of a position she had put herself in that day. Tears were streaming fully down her face now.

"I'm sorry, Papa."

Severus shook his head. "I don't want to hear that you are sorry. I want you to answer my question. What could have happened?"

Zoe sniffled. "The water p-pulled me in and tried t-to drowned me."

"_Drown_ you, that's right. And what does that mean?"

"I would die."

"You. Would. _Die_," Severus said forcefully, punctuating each word with a slight shake. The girl flinched each time. "You disobeyed me which you already know I don't tolerate but, in doing so, you put your life in danger. _That_ is _beyond_ unacceptable, young lady. Do you hear me? I will not have it."

Zoe was crying full out now, her face twisted in emotional pain. It was killing Severus to see it, but this was part of her discipline. He hoped the guilt of her actions and the fear of what could have happened had he been unsuccessful in his attempt to save her would be enough to reinforce the tangible punishment that was yet to come.

Severus took a deep breath, pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and began to wipe at Zoe's face.

"Calm down," he said evenly, hoping his tone was a bit less fierce now. "You aren't going away."

Zoe's eyes widened. "I'm not?"

"No," Severus stated plainly. "But for the rest of our stay here, you are on probation."

"W-What d-does that mean?" Zoe hiccupped, wrinkling her brow.

Severus laid the handkerchief aside and sat back in the Adirondack. Zoe leaned against the inside of his thigh. "It means that I am going to be watching you very closely for naughty behavior over the rest of this week. If you disobey me so egregiously again, I will contact the Malfoys, you will be sent away until my return and you will not be allowed to accompany me on an expedition again. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Papa," Zoe said softly to her feet.

"You will also not be playing on the beach by yourself again for I can't trust you to do as you are told. Therefore, you will accompany me into the cliffs where we will find a nice spot out of the wind for you to sit and work on your penmanship and maths while I gather moss. Once I begin brewing, you will stay with me in the potions shed as well. Your playtime is therefore limited to inside the cottage when I rest and can easily keep watch of you."

Zoe nodded. "Okay, Papa."

Severus stared at his daughter curiously. His lecture must have hit home for the girl was rarely this subdued after being handed a punishment—she tended to bounce back rather quickly. Zoe continued to look down, running a finger absentmindedly over a crease in his trousers. Severus stilled her hand and when she looked up at him once more, he could see her melancholy expression and that her eyes were still swimming in tears.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I didn't mean to make you so cross, Papa."

Severus winced briefly at her words._ You've administered the sting, now it's time for some honey._

He lifted the girl onto his lap and, instead of positioning her in the crook of his arm as he normally did, he brought her back to lay against his chest and wrapped his arms around her in a sort of backwards hug so that they were both looking out onto the sea.

"I was never cro—" Severus shook his head. It wouldn't do to lie to her. "No. I was cross with you, for a brief moment. But mostly, I was disappointed with your disobedience. You put yourself in a very dangerous situation, Zoe, and I was frightened—"

Zoe immediately shot out of his arms and turned to look at him.

"You was scared, Papa?" she interrupted him, shocked, apparently. "But you're not 'fraid of _anything_."

Severus arched a single eyebrow, giving his daughter a perplexed look. Did she really believe that he feared nothing? He suddenly found himself trying to think back to his own childhood. Had he ever seen his father show fear? Yes, of course he had, daily. Tobias Snape had lived in fear of his own wife and son. He had tried to alleviate that fear by instilling fear of himself. Eileen had most definitely shown fear when faced with her angry and drunken husband.

It was so strange to think that Zoe saw him as a man without fear. Was showing one's fear a sign of weakness as he once thought or a sign of strength and self-awareness? He found that he didn't know anymore.

"Everyone is afraid of something," he stated simply.

Surprisingly, Zoe simply contemplated his answer for a moment and then nodded. She leaned back into her position on his chest and sighed. She tilted her head to the side to rest against his right arm. Severus rested his chin on the top of her head. He could smell the salt and fishiness still settled in her hair. She would need a bath before bed, but for now, they could just sit in contented silence.

"Papa?"

Well, almost silence.

"What is it?"

"Will I _ever_ get to go to the beach again?"

Severus wrinkled his brow. He hadn't truly thought about it.

"I didn't imagine you would want to go near the water after your incident today."

He felt Zoe's head shake vigorously.

"No. I liked the beach and…I lost all my seashells."

Severus sat silently for a minute, taking that statement in. Just a few hours before, the waters had tried to swallow her up and here his daughter was asking to go back, getting right back up on that broomstick to ride again. Apparently, she had not been as traumatized by her experience as he had assumed. He beamed with pride for his brave and perseverant little girl.

"Perhaps that can be arranged," he said.

Zoe merely nodded and the two of them sat quietly watching the waves until dinnertime.


	3. Birds and Bees and Dragons

_**Hello again! Sorry it has taken so long for me to get this chapter up. The holidays were insane and I have been dealing with some personal issues in the past week. But, hey, it's up now and I think you all are going to like it. One thing to note is that I have changed the rating of this story due to some...anatomical conversation in this chapter. I just did it to be safe, really, there's nothing graphic.**_

_**To all those who continue to read and review, you are the loves of my life.**_

_**To 1066AndAllThat, you get to be that fly on the wall, I suppose. ;-)**_

_**Enjoy.**_

**_MetamorphmagusLupin_**

* * *

><p><strong>The Tribulations and Tranquility of Travel<strong>

**Chapter 3: Birds and Bees and Dragons**

For Severus to say that Zoe had been an absolute angel for the duration of their trip to Ventnor would have been a lie. She hadn't been an uncontrollable terror or ill-behaved, by any means—she knew far better than that—but she had been…troublesome.

The day after her unfortunate foray into deliberate disobedience and, thus, the raging waters of the English Channel, found her sitting quietly in a conjured little desk under an outcropping of dark rock, shaded from the sun, with her bare toes in the sand, and situated as far from the water as Severus could possibly get her.

It had turned out that the traces of moss he had found on the previous day led him to the overhang where he had been surprised to discover enough of the shade-loving flora to brew all the potions he'd been commissioned for and then some.

As he carefully and tediously collected and stored the moss, Zoe worked on the sums he had given her and practiced writing with a calligraphy pen—imitating the letters and numbers he had written out for her. Severus hoped to get her writing with an actual quill soon, but in the meantime, the self-refilling, training pen would do.

However, after nearly three hours of morning schoolwork with no complaint, Severus told Zoe she could put it all away and the two of them sat down on a conjured blanket in the sand to have lunch from the picnic basket he'd packed that morning. Severus leaned his back against a rock while Zoe situated herself onto her belly to eat her sandwich and crisps, her legs bent at the knee as she swung her feet back and forth through the air.

"You make the best roast beef, Papa," Zoe said, happily munching a corner of her sandwich.

Severus inclined his head, rather amused. "Thank you. Though, I shall have to disappoint you, for I merely paid for the roast beef, I did not make it."

Zoe seemed to mull that over for a moment and then shrugged. Severus smirked.

After lunch, he had allowed her to stand by him as he continued to work. He had shown her the moss and explained to her the significance of it in various potions. She had been curious for a minute or two, but Severus knew that she had grown rather bored of it when she started asking a plethora of different questions—none of them having anything to do with the cultivation of moss. He had been patient with her and continued his work while trying to answer them to the best of his ability but, eventually, Zoe grew bored with him altogether and began wandering and exploring the sandy, rocky area under the rock face. She had been very good about staying in the shade of the overhang, as he had instructed, though Severus made sure that he kept one eye on her at all times.

It was nearly two in the afternoon when it occurred to him that the girl had grown silent. Having come to learn that such an occurrence often meant that a young child was up to something, he looked up from where he was magically sealing moss into sterile containers.

Zoe was straight across from him to his left, crouched down and poking at the sand with her fingers. She appeared to be digging quite inquisitively and with a surprising amount of care. Severus watched her as she dug her little hands into the sand and combed her fingers back slowly, allowing the sand to fall back smoothly and naturally. This was odd to Severus for he'd watched her for a time attempt to build a sandcastle the previous day and the girl had hurriedly flung sand every which way then. Now, her movements were gentle. Precise, even.

She paused and reached out, poking at something. She crouched down further to inspect the object then she picked it up and brought it to her face. After a moment, she flung the thing away from her with a somewhat disappointed expression and went back to digging.

Severus was most definitely intrigued by his daughter now. It seemed obvious that something had piqued her interest and that she was searching for something more. The question was, what?

He tried to focus back on his work—he was very nearly finished, after all—but his eyes kept straying to the little girl across from him.

When he had finally sealed the last container several minutes later, he looked up and was surprised to see that Zoe was now sitting in the sand rather than crouching, but was in the exact same place as before. She was also still precisely moving the sand around in her search.

He narrowed his eyes. For a child who could hardly keep still long enough to finish a meal, she had remained incredibly focused for quite some time.

Severus approached her slowly, observing her actions. She didn't seem to notice him until his boots entered her line of vision. Even then, she only looked up at him briefly.

"Hi, Papa," she said indifferently before going back to her digging.

"Hello. What are you doing?"

"Digging in the sand."

Severus rolled his eyes, annoyed with himself for continuing to forget that children this young were very literal.

"Yes, I see," he stated calmly. "I was curious as to _why_ you are digging in the sand."

"I'm looking for dragon eggs," she said, still looking down.

Severus raised his eyebrows and then furrowed them.

"What makes you believe you're going to find a dragon egg in the sand?" he asked.

Zoe looked up at him then. "I already found some," she said.

"Oh?"

Zoe nodded, smiling.

"May I enquire as to _where_ you found a dragon egg?"

Severus was suddenly worried. Although he knew inherently that the possibility of Zoe finding a dragon egg in the sand outside Ventnor on the Isle of Wight was slim, he couldn't help but be curious. Just because it was _unlikely_ didn't mean it was a complete impossibility.

"Not _a_ dragon egg, Papa," Zoe corrected, obviously affronted by her father's assumption. "_Lots_ of dragon eggs."

Now Severus was just confused. Dragons didn't typically lay large clutches of eggs—one or two, usually, if he remembered his Care of Magical Creatures lessons correctly. He supposed Zoe's idea of "lots" could be somewhat skewed… She _was_ only six years old, after all, and she _did_ tend to exaggerate, as children are wont to do.

"Could you show me the dragon eggs?"

Zoe had gone back to her digging, but she froze then and looked up at him with sternness in her features—something he rarely saw.

"Can you keep 'em secret?" she asked in a rather scathing, skeptical tone that Severus was certain would land her in quite a bit of trouble if she were to use it in about ten years.

At her current age, he allowed it to go unchecked, however, but gave her a stern eyebrow raise, glaring back at her with a similar intensity to her own.

"Yes," he said. _Unless they are truly dragon eggs, for I am legally obligated to report them to the Ministry_, he added in his head.

Zoe perked up immediately and grinned, happy to have a partner to share her discovery.

"Okay," she said and waved to him to follow her.

She crawled on her hands and knees through the sand while Severus followed behind on foot. He had barely finished his thought that Zoe was going to return to Spinner's End with the filthiest clothes he'd seen yet, when the girl stopped abruptly. Severus, in fact, very nearly stumbled over her. Biting back a sharp scold, he watched as she moved around an indention in the visible surface of the sand.

He took another step forward and followed her eyes downward into the hole that revealed a clutch of small, perfectly round, white eggs. There had to have been two dozen of them at least, though there were many that were half buried in the sandy pit, so it was very possible that many more were buried beneath the surface.

Zoe reached out a hand and delicately wiped some sand away from one egg. She then looked up at him with a look of wonderment on her face.

"See, Papa. _Lots_ of dragon eggs."

Severus couldn't help but smirk, amused at her grandiose assumption of what animal the eggs belonged to. He crouched down then to get a better look.

"Yes, I see," he indulged the little girl. "There are, indeed, 'lots' of eggs. However, I do not believe they are dragon."

"They're not?" Zoe asked, somewhat crestfallen at the news, but with a different gleam of enthusiasm at the mystery of the discovery.

Severus shook his head. "No, I think these belong to a sea turtle."

Zoe's face lit up even more as she turned away from him to gaze down upon the eggs.

"I never seen a sea turtle," she said.

_You've never seen a dragon either_, Severus thought logically.

Zoe sat quietly staring down into the pit for several minutes while Severus watched his daughter's amazement eventually fade. She looked up at him then with inquisitiveness.

"There are little baby sea turtles in those eggs, right?" she asked. The way she asked it, however, gave Severus the impression that she was trying to confirm a bit of knowledge that she couldn't quite remember if she had learned.

Severus nodded. "Yes. The young will grow inside the eggs until it is time for them to hatch."

"Hatch?"

"Until it's time for them to be born."

"Oh."

Severus could see the cogs moving behind Zoe's eyes as she took in the information.

"Where is the baby sea turtles' mummy and papa?"

"They are in the sea," Severus said simply.

Zoe nodded and looked out at the waves several meters away. Severus saw her wrinkle her brow.

"But… don't the mummy and papa want to see the babies when they are born?" she asked, continuing to look out into the Channel.

Severus also turned his gaze toward the water.

"It is not their way," he responded. "When the young turtles hatch, they will find their way to the sea by instinct."

He deliberately left out that predators on the beach would likely eat many of the tiny creatures before they ever reached the water, while some may never make it out of the pit, having never hatched. She already seemed quite troubled by the idea that the adult sea turtles wouldn't be there to see their young; it was probably best not to traumatize the girl by imparting the unpleasant facts of some of the reptiles' bleak futures.

There was an extended moment of silence except for the sound of the waves before Zoe turned and looked down at the eggs once more.

"My mummy went away, too," she said to them almost in a whisper, as if it was a secret. "But don't worry, your Papa will take care of you, just like my Papa takes care of me."

She was so resolved and sincere in her statement and Severus was so thrown off by it, yet touched, that he didn't have the heart to correct her—to tell her that the male sea turtle was even more unlikely to find this beach and care for its young.

"Papa?"

Severus focused his attention back on his daughter.

"Do people come out of eggs too?"

Severus's eyes widened briefly before he managed to compose himself.

"Er…no."

"Where do people babies come from?"

Severus opened his mouth to respond then closed it as a number of thoughts entered his mind. Was this conversation really heading in that direction? Was Zoe even old enough to wonder about or learn the intricacies of human reproduction?

_If she's old enough to be curious, then she's old enough to be told the truth._ That voice in his head sounded oddly like Minerva.

What was he supposed to say? The thought of explaining sex and procreation had not once entered into his mind, much less the thought that he'd have to try to make a six-year-old comprehend the process in terms she could understand.

Of course, Severus had given sex talks before. As the Head of Slytherin House, occasions had sometimes arisen where he'd had to sit an adolescent boy down and caution them on promiscuity. It came with the territory. From time to time, he'd even had to explain the physical changes of puberty and adolescence to a younger student—but always to boys. Girls, of course, were referred to Madam Pomfrey immediately at the slightest indication that an uncomfortable conversation was forthcoming.

Severus couldn't send his daughter to the mediwitch, however. Zoe was curious now, here.

_She has a godmother for a reason_, he thought as he attempted to convince himself that he'd subconsciously made the decision for Zoe to have a godmother for these very instances.

_No, she's your child. It is your responsibility to explain. _That was Minerva's voice again. Damn the meddling old witch. Even when she wasn't here, she was ever present and always seemed to be right.

He looked back at his daughter who was watching him curiously, waiting for an explanation. He took a deep breath.

"Human children are born… differently," he began explaining, very uncomfortably. "They come from their mothers."

Zoe nodded. "I know _that_, Papa. They're in the mummy's tummy but, how are they born?"

Severus was a bit relieved that she understood that small aspect of pregnancy at the very least. However, _how_ was a rather broad question in Severus's opinion.

"What do you mean, 'how'?" he asked, convincing himself that it was a legitimate question and not a stall on his part.

"I mean, how does a mummy have a baby?"

Severus sighed heavily. Actually resigning himself to the conversation.

"The child grows inside a mother's womb for many months and when it is time for the child to be born, it is."

Zoe still looked confused.

"'Womb' is another word for the mother's 'tummy', as you say," he amended and the girl nodded her head in understanding.

Zoe bit her lip and wrinkled her brow. Severus watched her cautiously, curious if that was the end of her questions on the subject. Personally, he thought his explanation was rather broad and, knowing his inquisitive daughter, she was unlikely to let it rest at that.

She looked up at him after several moments.

"But how does the baby get _out_ of the mummy's tummy?"

Severus sighed heavily and decided to situate himself into a sitting position as well, leaning his back against a rock jutting up out of the sand. It looked like he was going to be here for a while in order to explain this.

"When it is time for a child to be born," he began slowly, choosing his words carefully, "the mother goes into a state called labor, which makes the muscles in her abdomen start to squeeze and work the infant out of the birth canal." Here he put a hand to his own abdomen so that she would understand the vocabulary.

Zoe was riveted to his explanation. She even crawled around the pit of sea turtle eggs and across the sand to sit a little closer to him, her legs crossed and her eyes bright with curiosity.

"But how does the baby get out? Is it magic?" Zoe's brow was furrowed and Severus could tell that she would be perfectly willing to accept that the baby vacated the mother's body through the use of magic if he were to tell her that. However, that wasn't how it was and he was unwilling to allow her to assume—even for a short time—that it was.

"No. It is not magic, exactly. A magical child is born in the same manner as a Muggle child; it is a much more biological process."

Zoe nodded her head and watched him, waiting for the explanation, but Severus had to pause. He inhaled deeply.

"There is…an opening…er, on the mother's body," he said awkwardly, looking away from his daughter's inquiring eyes. _That was eloquent, _he thought sardonically. Why was he so bloody embarrassed to explain this to her? She was a child and she was asking a perfectly valid question. There was no reason for him to be so apprehensive. "It's called the… vagina… the opening, that is," he continued. "…and it expands to allow the baby to leave the mother's womb."

He shifted his eyes back to his daughter to gauge her reaction to his explanation. Would she finally relieve him of this uncomfortable conversation or would she be even more curious?

She was staring at him with a contemplative frown on her face.

"Do all mummies have the vagina?" she asked.

Curiosity would reign, apparently.

"Yes, all girls do," Severus said simply and the little girl nodded and looked away.

When Zoe started to play with the sand a bit, Severus released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. It seemed she was content to move on for the time being.

However, as Severus started to rise out of the sand with the intention of gathering the moss containers and heading back toward the cottage, Zoe looked up at him with that curious look in her eye and he paused, just as Zoe expounded her question.

"Papa, how does the baby get into the mummy's tummy?"

He immediately collapsed back down into the sand and brought a hand up to rub his forehead, his eyes closed. He knew this question would come; he should have steeled himself better for it. Running his hand up over his forehead and through his hair, he opened his eyes and settled his gaze back onto his six-year-old.

The look on her face seemed somewhat concerned and she was obviously confused by his reaction to her question.

_Be a man and tell your daughter what she wants to know, Severus, _he told himself_. It will only get harder to explain the longer you wait and the older she gets._

Suddenly overwhelmed with the desire for Elizabeth to be here to at least assist him in this explanation, Severus took another fortifying inhale of air and addressed his child.

"The male—the father—places the child into the mother, in a sense, by fertilizing her eggs with his sperm… Er, you see, it takes both parents to create a baby, with each one contributing to the genetic code of the child with the sperm and the egg—"

"So people babies _do_ come from eggs?" Zoe interrupted.

Severus tilted his head to the side, considering this.

"Well, yes, technically, but not in the same way that the sea turtles do. Human children are born live from their mothers and do not hatch from the eggs. That is merely the starting point of their gestation… er, of their growth in the womb."

That had gotten a bit easier as he went along, he supposed. It was merely a balance of being scientific and, yet, explaining it all simply. Zoe nodded her head. She seemed to be understanding, yet Severus couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. He rather relished the innocence of his little girl—it was much less complicated that way.

"How?" Zoe suddenly asked.

_How_. Severus had never felt so much resentment toward any one word in his life.

"How?" he asked.

"How does the papa put the baby in the mummy?"

_You know bloody well what she was asking. Stop delaying._

Once again, Severus found himself opening his mouth to begin an explanation, but then closing it as he realized that he didn't know exactly what to say. On the one hand, he thought that if he just stated exactly what caused pregnancy by incorporating all of the technical terms, perhaps she would be so confused that she would just drop the subject. Then he had to remind himself that she was an inquisitive child—_his_ child—and that she was likely to ask for a definition or more clarification for every single word or situation she didn't understand. That would not only prolong the overall explanation, but would also make him more uncomfortable than he already was.

_Oh, bugger it. Just tell her._

"Copulation," he said lowly, averting his eyes from his daughter.

"What's that?"

"It is what is required to create a child."

Zoe continued to furrow her brow and Severus suddenly realized that there could be so much more to this explanation than the simple mechanics of it all. There were also the emotional aspects to take into account.

Yes, people most certainly had emotionally detached sex and that sometimes led to pregnancy, but he didn't feel Zoe was old enough for that particular conversation just yet. However, he had no intention of spouting off the "when a mummy and daddy really love one another" scenario either. After all, Zoe had been conceived out of wedlock and he couldn't even be sure that it had been love that had brought him and Elizabeth together. It most certainly hadn't been a fling but, to this day, he was still uncertain as to how to categorize the relationship they had had.

At the time, Elizabeth had ignited something in him; she'd introduced him to the advantages of impulse and shown him what it was like to live, rather than merely exist, in a world where his primary purpose had ceased. She had died much too young, but she had left with him a gift—a new purpose—in the form of a blue-eyed, brown-haired little girl with freckles on her nose.

He had seemed to be just what Elizabeth needed as well. Her prior relationships had been neglectful and caustic, from what little information she had imparted to him during their short acquaintance. Severus had been something stable in her life, he supposed. They had bantered well and they had seemed to heal each other.

Until it all ended, of course.

Elizabeth, eventually frustrated by Severus's secrecy and ultimate inability to trust her with his heart, had thrown a house slipper at his head during that last argument and told him she never wanted to see him again. Severus, in all his snarky glory, had been unwilling to admit to his portion of the fault; he'd grown spiteful and reentered the wizarding world, determined to forget the six-month-long personal experiment that Elizabeth Agnew had represented.

If he hadn't gone, perhaps he would have been there to help the woman. Perhaps he would have been there to see his child come into the world…

"Papa, what _is_ copoolmation?"

Zoe's adamantly asked question rocked Severus out of his musings and brought him back into their conversation with a renewed sense of dread. How was he to explain to his daughter about her mother? He'd never really thought about it before. Surely, Zoe would ask eventually and he was rather curious as to why she hadn't already. What was he to say? He wasn't even entirely sure that Zoe knew about or understood the idea of marriage. Would she be upset if he were to tell her that she was an illegitimate child born from two parents who were never entirely sure where their feelings toward each other were headed? Would she resent that she had been unplanned—an accident, in essence?

_A beautiful, happy accident_, he thought.

He shook his head. _She hasn't asked anything about her own conception or her mother and she has no basis of judgment toward being a bastard or otherwise. Answer her bloody question and you can cross other bridges when you come to them._

He steeled himself as much as he could and started to talk.

"Copulation, or sex, is an act that takes place between two people—"

"A mummy and a papa," Zoe confirmed.

_Well, not necessarily…_

Severus inclined his head slightly in agreement—perfectly content to let her assume that much at her current maturity level.

"You see," he continued, "Males… men and boys have an— an organ… outside of their body. It is called the penis and, in order to conceive a child, it must be…" He paused, thinking of the right phrasing. Nothing he thought of seemed remotely right or appropriate, however. "…inserted into a female's vagina."

He winced for some reason then shook his head, trying to clear his unease with the conversation.

"You mean the opening where the baby comes out?"

"Yes."

Zoe nodded and thought for a second before she lifted her shirt to expose her belly. She looked down at it for a moment then looked back up at him with a furrowed brow.

"Is this a vagina, Papa?"

Severus's eyes grew wide and he suddenly had to stifle the urge to laugh aloud. Her naiveté was so pronounced at this age and here he was, ruining that. He shook his head.

"Zoe, you know very well that that is your belly button."

"Oh, right," Zoe said, lowering her shirt. She seemed uncertain.

Severus took a deep breath and continued talking.

"Both the vagina and the penis are situated between the legs on the respective person," he said, feeling like he needed to clarify that.

Zoe thought for a moment as understanding dawned on her. She seemed to wrinkle up her face in mild disgust. "But I use that to use the loo," she stated.

"Yes, you do. But it is essentially the same body part that is used to produce a child."

He figured she would learn of the differences in the internal organs later.

Zoe nodded slowly and looked away from him. Severus couldn't tell if she was confused or if she was, in fact, disgusted by what he had told her. He tried to think back on sex talks he'd given before. Those children had been considerably older and there hadn't been any need for the anatomy lesson with them. They had been fully aware of the parts involved and any discomfort or embarrassment had come from the mental image of the act itself and the fact that they were discussing it with their feared professor and Head of House.

This was a different experience for him, however. Zoe seemed to be trying to wrap her brain around it all and Severus could see in her eyes that she was trying to understand. Eventually, she looked up at him again.

"So, the papa has the penis and the mummy has the vagina?" She was trying to clarify everything now, Severus imagined.

"Yes."

Zoe again nodded slowly.

"So… you and mummy did… that… so that I would be born?"

He nodded.

Why did he feel guilty all of a sudden? He had played his part in bringing her into this world and it was a perfectly natural thing, so why was he so uneasy about it now? He imagined it had something to do with how Zoe was looking at him. There was a look of confusion mingled with something that Severus could only describe as utter revulsion. He didn't like that look upon his child's face—not when it was directed at him.

"And you only did copoolmation so that I could be born, right?"

Severus opened his mouth dumbly. Damn. How as he to answer that?

_You won't. Not truthfully, anyway. Not yet._

She would understand about the pleasurable aspects of sex with time. Merlin, help him.

_And Minerva is bloody well going to take part in that conversation when the time comes_, he thought rather scathingly, resolutely.

"Yes, absolutely. Just to have you."

"Okay," Zoe said, relief evident in her tone. That seemed to ease his guilt for telling his child a bald-faced lie.

The two of them sat quietly for several minutes. Severus looked out upon the beach, chancing glances at his daughter from time to time out of the corner of his eye in an effort to gauge her reaction or thoughts on the subject they had just discussed. Zoe absentmindedly pushed around sand with her hands as a cool breeze blew her hair about her face and neck. Eventually, she looked up at him with those inquiring eyes once again and Severus inhaled sharply, readying himself for more discomfort.

"Papa, can we go back to the cottage now?" she asked, shivering and crawling toward him. She made herself comfortable beside him, leaning into his side. Severus looped an arm around her. "I'm cold."

"Certainly," he said, pulling out his wand and heaving a sigh of relief.

He cast a mild warming charm around the little girl before pointing it toward the containers situated several feet away. He levitated them up out of the sand, shrunk them and placed them in the picnic basket they had brought along before levitating that to him. He stood, helping Zoe up as well and instructed her to put her shoes on. As she did that, he went about vanishing Zoe's desk and chair as well as the blanket they had used for lunch. He grabbed the picnic basket when Zoe had joined him and started to walk out from beneath the overhang of rock.

Zoe instantly took hold of his free hand and started skipping along as best as the sand beneath her feet would allow her. When she yawned next to him, Severus couldn't help but smile. So, their conversation had been just as draining on her as it had been on him.

"Do you fancy a walk into Ventnor this evening?" he asked.

Zoe looked up at him with excited eyes. "Oh, yes, Papa!"

He nodded. "After a short nap."

Her features instantly fell.

"I'm not sleepy," she defended, whining.

"Your yawn and tired eyes say otherwise. Just a short nap—for the both of us—then we'll go into Ventnor for dinner and some shopping."

"Okay, I guess so."

* * *

><p>Zoe didn't like that she had to take a nap when she wasn't even tired, but since her Papa let her lay curled up on the big bed beside him instead of in the trundle bed she'd used the previous two nights, she thought she would be good and do as he asked without any fuss. She figured she could lie quietly while her Papa slept and then pretend like she had napped when he awoke later.<p>

Therefore, she was thoroughly surprised when the soft sound of her Papa saying her name made her eyes flutter open. He was sitting on the bed looking down on her, his hand moving soothingly between her shoulder blades.

"I fell asleep!" she exclaimed, sitting up quickly and disengaging herself from the afghan her and her Papa had shared.

"Indeed, as I knew you would," he said. "But it is time to get up now or you will not sleep tonight."

Zoe had done just that, vaulting off the bed and making her way to the loo. When she had finished in there, she walked into the sitting room to find her father talking with Madam Adrienne and two other men she hadn't seen before.

Matthew was running about the space with a toy dragon and when he spotted her coming out of the bedroom, he approached her.

"Zoe! Look at the dragon my brother, Morgan, bought for me!" he said, holding it out to show her. Zoe merely nodded her head, relatively uninterested in the boy's toy as she walked to stand in front of her father. She leaned her back against his legs as Madam Adrienne leaned down to address her.

"Good afternoon, Zoe."

"Good afternoon, Madam Adrienne," Zoe said politely and she felt her father place a hand on the top of her head and pat it softly.

"These are my two eldest sons, Mark and Morgan," Madam Adrienne continued, standing upright once more and indicating to the men beside her. "I've just introduced them to your Papa. They've come to clean out a few boxes from the potions shed so the two of you can brew in there tomorrow."

Zoe nodded and turned her head to look up at her Papa. "Can I call them by their given names too, Papa?" she asked.

"I suppose. If they do not mind, of course."

Zoe nodded again and grew quiet as her father continued to chat. Eventually, she grew bored and walked to the sofa, where Matthew was still playing with his dragon. She stood beside it and leaned over the armrest and watched him, though he seemed pretty absorbed in his play. Suddenly, a thought and a question occurred to her and she blurted it out without preamble.

"Matthew, you're a boy, right?"

"Yeah," Matthew said, disinterested.

Zoe nodded in confirmation. "That means that you have a penis and that you have to put a baby in a mummy's tummy."

The adults stopped talking instantly and Matthew looked up at her with a perplexed look upon his face.

"_Zoe_," her father admonished in a hiss and, for the first time in her life, she saw a bit of pink appear high on his cheeks as he looked uncomfortably between her and their hosts.

"What?"

"Mum?" Matthew seemed confused by the statement and Zoe didn't understand why it had grown so quiet.

Mark and Morgan Robertson were absolutely rolling with laughter and, as Matthew made his way to his mother, Zoe felt tears start to spring to her eyes. What had she said that was so funny?

"My apologies, Madam Robertson," she heard her father say uneasily. "Zoe found some sea turtle eggs on the beach today and her subsequent questions led to a rather in-depth conversation on human procreation. I imagine it is still fresh on her mind. We shall have to discuss what topics are appropriate for company, however, I think."

Madam Adrienne started to laugh then, too. "There's no need to apologize, Mr. Snape. She's done no harm aside from spawning curious questions from Matthew, no doubt. Questions I'm sure his _brothers_ will be more than eager to assist in answering." She shot a stern look at the still-chuckling men and their laughing ceased instantly. They now looked as uncomfortable as Zoe's Papa did, but they fidgeted much more.

"Well, have a lovely evening in Ventnor, Mr. Snape," Madam Adrienne said, turning toward the back door of the cottage with her sons. "I would recommend The Spyglass for dinner. It's very good."

"Yes, thank you," her Papa said and, once the door had closed, he turned toward Zoe, his features a bit exasperated as he rubbed at his forehead.

Zoe looked up at him through misty eyes before the overwhelming urge to be in her father's arms took hold of her. She sprinted to him, buried her face in the fabric of his shirt and sobbed without really knowing why. He reached down and held her to him with a hand between her shoulder blades, allowing her her cry. Eventually, though, he crouched down to be on a more even level with her.

"Why are you crying?" he asked.

"B-because they was laughing at me. I didn't m-mean to say anything bad, Papa. I promise."

Her father sighed. "Zoe, you didn't say anything bad. It's just that… the conversation we had today about creating children and… parts of the body… is not an appropriate topic to discuss with people you've only known for two days. Poor Matthew doesn't seem to be as educated as you now are on such things. I think you may have frightened him a little."

"I didn't mean it," Zoe said, her tears merely sniffles now.

"I know," her Papa said, conjuring a fresh handkerchief to wipe Zoe's face clean. "Also—and this is very important—making children is something that adults and _only_ _adults_ do. We will, undoubtedly, go much further into this conversation when you are older but, for now, do you understand?"

Zoe nodded. "Only grownups."

Her father gave his own curt nod as he stood.

"Are you ready to walk into the village now?" he asked once he'd vanished the dirty cloth.

Zoe nodded her head vigorously and her father moved to fetch their coats from the bedroom. As they left the house, Zoe took her father's hand for their walk into Ventnor.

* * *

><p>The rest of their time in Ventnor seemed to rush by in Severus's opinion. Zoe had been exceptionally well behaved each time they had ventured into town, which pleased Severus immensely. He had taken her to the Botanical Gardens the previous day and watched her closely as she had walked around in the paddling pool beneath The Cascade on the esplanade. He had told her it was likely to be cold, but she hadn't seemed to mind as she pulled off her plimsolls and socks, rolled up her trouser legs and splashed into the water, giggling. He sat down on the bench of a picnic table as she ventured over the Isle of Wight-shaped island in the middle of the pool, pointing out Ventnor to him once she had found it.<p>

Zoe had been quite keen to "help" him in brewing his potions in the shed as well. She was barely able to see over the top of the workbench, however, and Severus had lost much time in his actual brewing each time she had pointed to an ingredient and asked what it was and, subsequently, what it was for.

He did his best to be patient with her, assuring himself that she was genuinely curious and that she merely wanted to be a part of the process, but his patience wore thin when she had started dancing about the already cramped workspace and humming to herself. When she bumped into the back of his legs, he accidently poured a bit too much wall lizard blood into his Coagulating Concoction causing it to turn a sickening green color rather than the forest green it should have been at this stage.

He lost his temper.

"_Sit_. _Down_," he had spoken menacingly to her, pointing to a wooden crate across from him. Zoe's eyes had grown wide and she had instantly obeyed and remained quiet as he quickly recalculated ingredient proportions and saved the solution.

Over ten minutes later, the girl hadn't uttered a word and Severus turned to see her watching him, a look of dread on her face. At least she wasn't crying this time. He sighed heavily.

"This potion can be very finicky," he explained softly. "Proportions must be precise and when you jostled me, you caused me to put too much of one particular ingredient into the potion."

"Is it spoiled?" she asked, something akin to terror on her face.

Severus shook his head. "No. I have managed to save it."

Zoe nodded solemnly. "Do I have to go away now?" she asked, looking at her lap.

Severus's heart nearly sank. This transgression had been far milder than the beach incident and she assumed he would send her away for it? She hadn't really done anything wrong.

"No. You are not in trouble. I merely wanted you to understand that I was in need of some concentration for a few minutes. I would not send you away for something so small. Besides, we leave tomorrow."

Zoe had nodded again, but still acted like a chastised child. Severus rubbed his forehead and sighed.

"Come," he said suddenly. "We're going down to the beach."

Her mood change was instantaneous. A huge smile erupted on her face as her entire demeanor shifted from melancholy to gleeful. She vaulted off the crate and preceded him out the shed door, racing down the sandy path toward the sea.

"Wait!" Severus called out to her sternly and the girl froze, looking back at him sheepishly.

Severus quickly locked the door and followed his daughter's footprints in the sand. He allowed her to run ahead of him a bit, but made sure to keep a hawk's eye on her wandering.

A few yards from the wet, compacted sand, Zoe plopped her bottom down into the sand and started to peel off her shoes and socks. She looked up at him, squinting against the brightness of the sun as it temporarily peaked out from behind the grey clouds.

"Are you going to take off your shoes, Papa?" she asked.

Severus hadn't planned on it, but he imagined that, based on Zoe's previous disregard for the temperature of the water, that she would want to put her feet into the surf. He did not intend to let her go down there on her own, no matter how close she was to him; therefore, he supposed he could indulge her on their last day.

He sat down in the sand next to the six-year-old and began undoing the laces of his Muggle trainers. Apparently, he was being too slow for, as soon as he had gotten it untied, Zoe all but tackled his foot, wrestling the shoe off. It was a bit tighter than she had anticipated, however, and it took her several tugs before it came off. She lost her balance and fell back onto her bottom. A shocked expression took over her features for a split second before the girl erupted into peals of giggles. Severus couldn't help but smile at her antics as well.

Once they were both shoeless and the legs of their trousers rolled up, Zoe took Severus's hand and immediately tugged him down the beach toward the wet sand.

"Come on, Papa!" she implored.

He only allowed her to pull him so far before he made her stop and wait for the water to come to her. She giggled when the icy liquid cascaded over their exposed skin. Severus, on the other hand, had to bite back a colorful curse. It was too bloody cold for this.

Eventually, he grew used to the chill of the water and he and Zoe walked along the beach hand in hand. From time to time, Zoe would pick up a seashell or a rock and examine it closely. When she found one she liked, she would hold it down in the water to clean off as much sand as she could before standing up and tucking the shell into his trousers pocket. Why she couldn't put the cold, wet shells into her own pockets instead of weighing down and soaking his was beyond Severus, but he made no comment.

That night, he put a very exhilarated, but exhausted little girl to bed.

Severus now sat in an Adirondack on the observation deck to the side of the house, listening to the ever-moving waves and the stillness of the land. He sipped tea that was quickly growing cold in the cool night air. As a breeze fluttered his hair, he sat back and sighed, feeling thoroughly content with life. As he gazed up into the dark sky, he saw a star streak across the sky, then another. In fact, the longer he sat there, the more shooting stars he saw. He vaguely recalled reading about a comet shower in the almanac portion of the _Daily_ _Prophet_ that morning and, after seeing two more stars trace through the sky, he stood from the chair, resolved, and entered back into the cottage.

He slowly cracked open the door into the bedroom, allowing a small portion of light to spill onto the blankets of Zoe's trundle bed. The girl slept on her back with one arm tucked securely under the blankets and the other curled up beside her head. Her breathing was light and rhythmic as Severus leaned over her and started to lift her from the bed.

Zoe stirred sleepily, but remained almost entirely limp as her father heaved her up into his arms. She instantly turned her head to the side on his shoulder and continued to snooze as Severus reached for the now familiar afghan on the edge of the larger bed and draped it over his daughter, making sure to tuck her feet in. Then quietly, he made his way back out onto the observation platform.

When the cool breeze hit his daughter's face, she wrinkled up her nose and cracked her eyes open slightly.

"What time is it?" she mumbled drowsily.

"Late," Severus whispered. "Look. Shooting stars."

He pointed up into the sky just as a larger star streaked across it. Zoe's eyes burst open fully and she stared into the night sky, mesmerized. She didn't say a word until she had watched several stars fly through the black sky.

"This is a good present, Papa," she said and Severus knew that sleep was taking her once again.

He continued to stand against the rail, however, holding his sleeping child in his arms and vowing to return to this place at least once a year in order to give Zoe something to cherish—to give himself something to cherish.

As troublesome as his daughter had been on this trip, this very moment made up for everything. For her nearly frightening him out of his mind, for their embarrassing talk in the sand under the outcropping of rock and inappropriate question to Matthew Robertson and for her nearly making him botch his first potion in thirty years—he would suffer through all of it again to have this time with her.

He knew Zoe would whine and plead to stay longer once the morning came and, though he'd have to tell her that they must return to Spinner's End, though he'd have to be the rational one, the adult, he knew his heart would be silently offering up the same pleas.

* * *

><p><strong><em>So, the sex talk that Severus has with Zoe and her reactions to it all were inspired by a friend of mine's five-year-old son. She told me about having to explain everything to him and how her son had been so entirely disgusted that he wouldn't even look at her or her husband for the rest of the day. <em>**

**_Also, for those of you that have read my story, _A Father's Right_, you might recall Severus internalizing that explaining sex and child birth to Zoe when she had been six years old had been a very difficult thing for him. Now you see why. Of course, writing Severus bumbling through an uncomfortable conversation was almost equally tasking and uncomfortable for me. I hope you all enjoyed it, though! Have a nice day!_**


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